Intentionally Paving the Road to Hell Little Thoughts

I Love Nature, I Just Hate Outside

Nothing like a big face full of pollen to make you rethink how cool those cherry blossoms are… Allergies have always been my hell to bear, because I am the sort of person who found out that Easter lilies make me violently, hit the floor ill when I walked into the library one spring day and someone had brought in flower arrangements. I hadn’t seen them, they weren’t in the same room, but man, that sucked. It sucked because they were very pretty and I had to be the asshole that had the bad enough reaction that they got sent home with the other staff members (which obviously they were okay with, both physically and, y’know, they were beautiful arrangements.) There was another staff member who also had similar reactions but she knew they were coming and took a personal day.

But of course, I have had allergies my entire life. I had a course of shots as a teenager, for about two years, and it did help make them less severe, but some years are worse than others and sometimes you run into a new thing or a new combination of things and you think about how it was, and how it could have been, and you are glad, but also then you have to explain, “No, your handcream makes me homicidal. I can’t go if you’re wearing it. I am not kidding. I am not an asshole about this. I really don’t want to punch the shit out of everyone I encounter because the headache is fucking with my impulse control.”

So allergies are a thing, and I am well aware that every season comes with some kind of sniffly, sinus filling, rashy nuisance. I plan accordingly, which means I think, “I really need to use X this year” and then never do so. Or I have onhand but never put it on before going out.

The thing I forget is how motherfucking miserable bugs are. I never forget how some creep me out (like centipedes. Or silverfish. God almighty I hate those fucking things). I appreciate spiders in the right setting. I have house on the edge of the woods, so ants can totally fuck themselves inside and out (termites too, but they are only visible if you are digging here and we have a guy who comes and kills the fuckers every year).

Today is sunny and bright and it is hot and humid as balls and I don’t want to go out there but eventually pugs will have to pee. It’s pretty out. It is tempting to try to go out. But seriously, it so fucking gross, because every fly in creation hatched. Every. Fly. In. Creation. I went to shut the water to the hose outside off this morning (the shutoff is in the basement as the spigot is a shithead) and I noticed that the window in the basement had a metric fuckton of flies. That window is in the same area we keep having to put mouse traps down, but we have sealed the shit out of everything there. (They are still getting in on occasion, obviously, the mice.) I don’t know what that is about, but it’s disturbing and I don’t want to get a step stool out to look from inside particularly and I also don’t want to go through the landscaping (or what I guess is technically landscaping?) to look, because hot as balls, bugs, and some long ornamental grass that needs to go because it is like goddamn razors.

So I am going to hope for the best there, in that case.

It is way pretty out there. But today, the experience versus the view makes the view totally false advertising.